


Please Don't Leave Me Again

by doyoushipwhoiship



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: And Nandor Has Feelings, Awkwardness, Basically Guillermo Returns, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Loosely Based on the Synopsis for S2E8 Collaboration, M/M, Soft Nandor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:02:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24123307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doyoushipwhoiship/pseuds/doyoushipwhoiship
Summary: It's 6:00 a.m. and Nandor can't sleep. He needs reassurance but doesn't know how to ask for it.Awkwardness abounds.
Relationships: Guillermo/Nandor the Relentless (What We Do in the Shadows TV)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 159





	Please Don't Leave Me Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shocked_into_shame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shocked_into_shame/gifts).



> Inspired by Capitulate by shocked_into_shame

It is a little past six a.m. when Nandor gives up—well, not quite. He gives _in_. Gives in to the temptation of getting up and going downstairs and checking to make sure his familiar is tucked safely in bed, because _yes_ , he reminds himself, _Guillermo is_ home, _Guillermo has come back to me_ , but a tiny shred of doubt has wormed its way into his heart in the last two hours, ever since Guillermo left his room just before sunrise with minimal eye contact and a single “Do you need anything else?” before closing the coffin. Nandor feels so incredibly lonely in this moment, marooned, lost in the middle of a deep dark sea. The darkness of the inside of his coffin doesn’t help, the swollen black emptiness functioning as the ideal canvas for bad dreams. He scans Guillermo’s features in his mind’s eye, imagining the man’s face floating above him in the dark. He concentrates, willing his imagination to make the face smile, but Guillermo won’t. There’s an empty look in his eyes, a slight frown to his lips.

There’s no question that something’s changed between them, that the dynamic has shifted, and Nandor realizes suddenly, with a feeling like an iron fist gripping at his insides, he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to fix it. It’s not as if this is his fault—he never encouraged Guillermo to keep anything from him—but he wishes the man had confided in him. Is Nandor not trustworthy? He swallows, his mouth feeling terribly dry. He hasn’t fed in a few days because without Guillermo around to impress with his antics there didn’t seem to be a point. Guillermo, he knows, has tried to confide in him before. _But I wouldn’t listen_. _I only pretended to be listening to him._ Nandor shuts his eyes, but on the insides of his lids there is only more darkness, more madness. He groans, baring his fangs to no one. The camera crew isn’t here to bother him. Nadja and Laszlo are fast asleep in their crypt. He steels himself for the task of navigating the house in the daytime, but it will be worth it.

Nandor slowly opens the coffin lid and peers out. Luckily, Guillermo has installed plenty of window treatments that block out the sun. He leaves his bedroom and makes his way to the rear stairwell, taking cautious steps so as to create as little noise as possible. By the time he gets to the main floor, he can hear Guillermo’s heartbeat. It’s steady but slower than normal, so he must be asleep. He really needs to pay more attention to his familiar’s sleep schedule…it is important, he realizes, for Guillermo to get enough sleep. Otherwise he will not have enough energy for all his chores.

With one final glance around him to check for signs of Colin Robinson, Nandor leans toward Guillermo’s bedroom door and grasps the handle, turning it and pulling it out. The door creaks to his dismay, and he grimaces in anticipation for a waking Guillermo, but the man does not stir. Nandor shifts his fully dressed bulk into the threshold and hazards a survey of the room. The glitter portrait, he notes, is still tacked to the wall above Guillermo’s bed, and his familiar is on his side, wrapped in blankets, snoring very gently. His glasses rest on a side table and his hands are placed beneath his head.

The sight of him brings immense relief to the vampire. He finds himself smiling before catching himself, before remembering there are no cameras about, and smiling again. As long as Guillermo is here, things can get back to normal. Even if his familiar _is_ a vampire killer, what was the old saying? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer? Well—Nandor would have to keep Guillermo very close.

Then again, Nandor muses as he closes the door silently, he never thought of Guillermo as an enemy, not even now. He thought of him as a friend. He’d even told him as much…before immediately making him forget he’d said anything. Nandor blinks as he does another visual sweep, searching for any sign of sunlight penetrating the house. He is always managing to screw something up…

The thought hasn’t left his mind when he takes a step forward but is yanked back into the door, landing on the jamb with an _ooomf._ Amid all the pains he’s taken to keep quiet, Nandor closed the hem of his tunic into the door.

“Who’s there?”

_Shit. Guillermo is awakening._

“Shhh. It’s just me, Guillermo.”

Guillermo releases his grip on the wooden stakes he keeps under his pillow. With a sigh of relief, he grabs his glasses instead and sits up.

“Master, what are you doing? It’s morning.”

“I…I know.” He needs to think of an excuse for being down here, and fast.

“Do you need something?”

“I…” Nandor starts again. His mind is a blank slate, a hazy gauze like the inside of his coffin. When he blinks, he feels blood tears prickling. Now is not the time to have a heartfelt conversation, he thinks. He wants to ask Guillermo so many questions, wants to know if he is angry with him, if he was glad to return, if he is happy. He grips the edge of the door in agitation. Is Guillermo happy? He’d never asked. Had he?

Guillermo notices Nandor’s discomfort. “Master—”

“I wanted to make sure you were still here,” Nandor murmurs, cutting him off. He can’t think of a lie, so there is nothing left to tell but the truth. He slowly lifts his gaze to meet Guillermo’s. “That you hadn’t left again.”

“No,” Guillermo confirms. “I’m here.” He laughs a little, nervous, as if he can’t figure out what Nandor is up to, exactly. Nandor isn’t even sure what Nandor is up to.

“Okay. That is good.” Nandor turns in the doorway, ready to hurry back to his coffin before he can embarrass himself even more, before he turns back once again. “Please don’t leave me again,” he forces out, his voice vulnerable and shaky and decidedly unwarriorlike, before closing the door and rushing back upstairs.

Left alone in his room, Guillermo removes his glasses and palms his forehead. Now _he’s_ the one who won’t be able to sleep.


End file.
